


How Long For A Pour-Over?

by LondonBird95



Series: How Long For A Pour-Over? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Barista!Harry, Businessman!Draco, Coffee Shops, Flirtatious!Draco, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Sassy Harry, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonBird95/pseuds/LondonBird95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt:<br/>Sassy Barista!Harry and Flirty Businessman!Draco</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Long For A Pour-Over?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Wizards_Vs_Muggles](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Wizards_Vs_Muggles) collection. 



> I just ran with this prompt, because the Harry potter fandom is basically the only one without a shameful amount of coffee shop Au's.  
> I hope you like it- I personally love Sassy!Harry and shameless flirting. Add some Suggestive!Draco and you got this piece of literature I never thought I could create.  
> (Also, I'm pretty proud of that summary)  
> Prompt:  
> Non-Magic AU  
> Non-School AU
> 
> This can be read as a stand alone, but there will be another part!

Harry Potter had a… unique story.

He ran away from home when he was fifteen. A week after he ran away, when he realized no one was looking for him, he admitted himself into a troubled youth home. He grew up there, participating in the high school level classes they offered and becoming friends with the other "troubled youth". When he turned eighteen, he got a second-hand suit from the home, went for a job interview and moved out.

Working at a coffee shop wasn't amazing, sure, but Harry was making due. He could afford a tiny apartment a block from the coffee shop and he was saving every penny he could to go to college. He planned on attending classes at the community college just outside the city, but for that he needed some school supplies. And so, he worked.

He was in the coffee shop the day an attractive blond walked inside, completely soaked and frowning. The blond was young-looking- couldn't be much older than Harry- and he was quite fit, in Harry's humble opinion.

The man had very light blond hair, combed back slightly yet falling into his eyes, dripping wet. Speaking of, he had striking grey eyes- they were powerful and drew Harry in immediately. He had soft-looking lips, slightly pink from the cold outside, and he was wearing black fitted trousers and a smart turquoise sweater, which seemed soft, even if it was completely drenched. The man had just taken off his coat- a grey one that reached his knees- and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well," he said in an extremely posh accent, as if he was a relative of the queen, which- judging by his posture and clothes- he could very well be, "it seems like even though it's raining outside, I've lucked out." He smirked devilishly, obviously not talking about the heat in the coffee store. Harry just quirked an eyebrow and didn't comment.  

The man walked up to the counter. He took his time looking at the menu, being the only costumer in the shop- probably because he was the only person mad enough to leave his house during a storm such as this. Well, him and Harry. In an instant, Harry remembered he was in work, and at work, he needs to, well, work."Hello," he said too late, "I'm Harry. How may I help you today?" he asked. The man leaned on the counter, planting both palms firmly on the recently cleaned surface, "I would like coffee," he said.

Harry just barely stopped himself from snorting, "Yes, well, that's not very specific, is it?" he asked.  The man gave him a surprised look, apparently too shocked by Harry's reaction to reply. Then, a smirk blossomed on his face, "I see costumer service isn't all too good in this coffee shop," he commented. This time, Harry didn't stop the snort, "Yes, well, I get about twelve of you a day, and I don't really need another coffee illiterate right now. It's fine by me if you sit here just to get warm. Don't feel obligated to get anything," he said, turning around so he can click on the radio behind him.

The man's smirk grew as the sounds of Led Zeppelin flooded the shop. "As it so happens, I do actually want some coffee, not just your _delightful_ company," he said, sarcasm pouring from his mouth, even though he was smiling, "I'd like a medium pour-over please. And I'd like the coffee beans from that bag on the top shelf," he added, indicating to a specific bag that looked exactly like the rest. Harry sighed and went to the room in the back to bring the stool. He placed it in front of the shelves when the man spoke again. "So, when it comes to specific beans, you do provide acceptable costumer service?" he asked, playful sarcasm back in his voice.

Harry turned to him, noticing how the man was now leaning on the counter with his elbows in a relaxed, unhurried position, clearly waiting and carefully watching Harry. This close, Harry could smell vanilla, oranges and oak off of the man, and it made him want to inhale the air deeply. "Yes, well, if you order coffee that isn't 'instant', you gain a bit of respect 'round here. At least enough for me to get you a specific bag," he replied before he stepped onto the stool and reached for the bag. It was just out of reach. He stretched out and stood on the tips of his toes to get to it. He reached for it and was able to get a pretty firm grip, so he used both hands to get the medium-sized bag down.

When he was back at the counter, facing the man, he understood what had just happened. He felt a little fooled, but he couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. "Don't you think you should probably tell me your name before you check out my arse?" he asked boldly. The man didn't even flinch, he just smirked again- it was quite an attractive smirk, Harry noted- and said, "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"Well, Draco," Harry said, testing the name on his tongue, "Would you like anything else besides your coffee?" he asked. Draco shook his head. "No thank you. I have a meeting in a few minutes. And coffee is just what I need for it," he said. Harry raised an eyebrow as he bent down to retrieve the pour-over kit from behind the counter. Thankfully, the shop was a really nice one and it had expensive equipment Harry could use. As far as coffee shops go, this one was a rather nice one.

Pulling out a narrow spouted kettle, a pour-over device, some metal filters and a small scale from the wooden box, Harry asked, "What meeting, if I may ask?"

Draco chuckled, "Just some boring manager things. I own a company, you see," he said, pulling a business card from his pocket, which, magically, didn’t seem to be even slightly damp. On it was neat black lettering reading

 

_**Draco Malfoy** _

_**Malfoy Whisky CEO** _

_**96 Sumatra Rd, London** _

 

"Ah, yes, I see," Harry said, "so you work in the liquor business. Interesting." He began preheating the serving cup, careful not to have it too hot or too cold. Draco shrugged, "I do, but it's mostly meetings these days. When I founded the company, I had much more tastings and inventing new flavors. Now, apparently, I'm always stuck in meeting rooms," he heaved a dramatic long-suffering sigh which made Harry laugh.

He placed a metal filter in the pour-over device and turned to flick a switch for the hot water on the device behind him. When he turned back, Draco's eyes were still firmly planted on his lower zone. "My eyes are up here," he said mockingly, even though he didn't really mind. Draco's eyes snapped upwards and he grinned wolfishly, "Indeed they are," he replied, and continued to stare into Harry's eyes with a curious expression. "Aren't you a bit young to be a manager of a corporation big enough to have an office in the West End?" Harry asked finally, hearing the click from behind him indicating the water was hot enough and pulling himself away from Draco's hypnotizing eyes. He moistened the filter using the hot water before pouring the rest of it- exactly three hundred and twenty milliliters- into the kettle.   

Before Draco could answer, Harry lifted a finger so he could have Draco's attention before he dramatically opened the bag and inhaled a lungful of it. "Yes, I see, you were right- these are some exceptional beans. Worth the trouble completely," he mocked before he slowly weighed the coffee.

"Well," Draco said, ignoring Harry's comment, "I don't _think_ I'm old. Not unless twenty is the new eighty. I founded the company when I was eighteen. I dropped out of school when I was sixteen," he explained, "I worked for my father for two years until I had enough money to start my own company. The Malfoy name really helped it reach the size it is today, though."

"Is the Malfoy name supposed to mean something to me?" Harry asked as he moved his hands away from the scale indicating twenty four grams. He carefully ground the coffee beans, slow and steady; to make sure he had the exact amount. For a few long moments neither made a sound, until Harry looked up and noticed that Draco was staring at his hands, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened. His gaze snapped to Harry's eyes, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, Draco straightened himself, moving away from Harry and taking with him the smell of vanilla and oranges and oak. "It should," Draco confirmed, "We basically own half the city." Harry rolled his eyes at that and resumed grounding the beans. When he was satisfied with how they came out, he placed the grinds in the filter and began slowly adding water to it.

 _Seriously, making pour-over coffee takes ages,_ he thought to himself. When enough of the water was in the filter- none pouring into the cup, of course- he looked back up at Draco and said, "Never heard of you lot. But then again, I wasn't a proper part of society until a few months ago."

Draco quirked an eyebrow as Harry glanced at the clock, making sure that exactly forty seconds would pass until he added more water. "What do you mean by that?" Draco asked, looking as Harry added more water to the grinds in a spiral motion. Harry smirked, "I've got you interested now, don't I?" he asked, putting the kettle aside to wait forty more seconds.

"Oh, I was interested the moment I walked in," Draco said, the smirk again gracing his features, "It's just that now I'll hopefully get to hear more things about you, Harry the mysterious barista." Harry laughed at that, "oh, yes, Harry Potter- mysterious barista. You should write a book," he said as he resumed spirally adding water to the grinds. "I'll make it a series if you tell me about not properly being part of society," Draco suggested, and Harry smirked.

"Very well," Harry said, "As it appears, you'll be here for at least another two minutes." He gestured towards the filter before continuing, "As for what I said- I was in a troubled youth home. I ran away from home at fifteen. Lived there for three years," he explained. Draco's eyes widened, "Why did you run from home?" he asked.

"Aren't you nosy," Harry berated, smiling, "I had terrible guardians. My Aunt and Uncle. Horrible people. I don't regret leaving them for a second," he said, finally adding the last of the water in a spiraling motion and removing the pour-over device. "To go?" he asked, grabbing a paper cup from next to him, assuming Draco was probably in a hurry- especially now, after wasting so much time talking to the crazy talkative barista who takes forever to make some coffee.

"Not a chance," Draco said with a smirk, "Though I really won't mind it if you wrote your number on that cup. Oh, and I'll just drink that over here," he said, indicating to the slowly-cooling drink.

"Aren't you in a hurry?" Harry asked, even though he uncapped the sharpie- what did he have to lose?

Draco raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "I am, but I ordered a pour-over. I know my coffee, Harry," he said, putting emphasis on his words so they would sound meaningful.

"Oh," Harry said, frozen momentarily from shock, sharpie in one hand and paper cup in the other.

Draco laughed, "Yeah," he said, "What can I say? Fit, young baristas are my weakness. Any chance you actually write your number on that cup so that I could drink my coffee, which took nearly eight minutes to make, and make specific plans for dinner? For, I don't know, Friday, perhaps?" he asked, smirking slyly.

"You're insane," Harry said, suddenly suspicious of the man, "Chatting up dirt poor baristas in the middle of a storm. Yes, you're definitely at least a little mad." Before Draco could reply, a buzzing sound started up. It came from Draco's pocket. "It appears your phone hasn't been damaged by the rain," Harry observed, "You should probably get that. I bet the big suits are looking for you."

Draco bit his lip but fished out his phone and pressed the "answer" button. "Yes, Blaise?" he asked. There were a few seconds of silence as the man on the other line spoke, "Oh, I see. Well, you see, there was a storm so… okay… Wait a second," he said. He turned to Harry, "Actually, could you put that in a to-go cup?" he asked, covering the transmitter with his hand. Harry nodded and capped the sharpie so he could pour the coffee.

"No, no," Draco said, still covering the transmitter, "You need that to write your number on it," he said, smirking. Then, he removed his hand as he listened to the person on the other line speak. Harry uncapped the marker once more and wrote his name and number on it, even adding a small "x" beneath it. He poured the coffee into it, put a cover on it and passed it to Draco.

The blond took it and said, "Please wait another second, Blaise," into the transmitter, before moving it to press it against his chest and talk to Harry. "So what did we say about Friday?" he asked. Harry rolled his eyes, "Not the time, Mr. Big Shot," he said, "Go to your meeting. I wrote you my number."

Draco looked at the cup, as if checking to see that Harry wasn't lying, "So you did," he observed, "Well, that's good. I'll call you the minute I'm done," he said. "I won't hold it against you if you didn't," Harry replied as Draco pressed the phone back against his ear. The blond looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow, "If you think I'll ever get a number of someone as attractive as you, you're horribly overestimating my personality," he said and turned before Harry could comment

The last words Harry could hear before Draco walked back into the storm were: "Well, it's not my fault I'm late. I ran into this really fit barista and just _had_ to…"

Harry smirked as Draco disappeared down the street; silently hoping the man would actually pick up the phone and call him at the end of his meeting.  

He had a sneaky feeling that the blond would do just that.    

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos and Bookmarks are love!  
> (If you REALLY love this, you can suggest your own prompt- I'm procrastinating like crazy and could use the extra motivation)


End file.
